Hi! So, in retrospect, I probably could have done this as a simple one-shot instead of multiple chapters. My muse was overeager with this one when I started out and I envisioned longer chapters and a lot more going on. Then my overeager muse got distracted and busy with other projects and real life. Anyway... here's the latest installment. :)

Sam followed me back to my room and I'm not sure if it was because he was worried about me face planting on my way back or if he hadn't wanted to stay in Dad's room. Either way, I couldn't say I blamed him. I reached for the bag of clothes he'd salvaged from the car and started to get dressed, hoping I wouldn't fall over. It became necessary for me to sit down on the edge of the bed after a certain point. I braced my hands on the bed and tried to breathe past the dizziness and pain.

"You ok?"

Sam's voice was so quiet I almost didn't hear him over the sound of my own breathing. I looked up and nodded. He had his backpack over his shoulder and was perched on the edge of the utilitarian recliner that no one could possibly find comfortable. I snapped, "I'm great."

His gaze dropped to the floor and I felt bad for being so sharp. The doctor had mentioned that I'd nearly died in the accident, but also that I'd gone into cardiac arrest while at the hospital. It hadn't occurred to me at the time, but now I knew that Sam had been there. Of course he had. And he'd just watched Dad go into cardiac arrest. And die. I felt like a jerk.

"Sam?"

"Yeah?" He didn't look up.

I hesitated. It was stupid to ask if he was alright. Of course he wasn't. Any idiot could tell he was in pain and exhausted. And it wasn't just my father who had died. Didn't matter that they'd butted heads for years. Didn't matter that they'd butted heads the very last time they'd seen each other. Sam had just lost his father too. I said the only thing I could think of, "I'm sorry."

This time, he looked up at me. Eyes bright with unshed tears again, he nodded quickly and mumbled, "Me too."

"What you say we get the heck out of here, Sammy?"

"Are you sure you're ok, Dean?" He asked, voice laced with fear. "You...you almost…"

"I know." I cut him off before he could say it. "I'm tired and sore and angry and ready to be a thousand miles from here. But I'm ok, Sam. I'm going to be fine."

He swallowed hard and nodded.

I took a deep breath and pulled my shirt on, fumbling with the buttons as I shoved my feet into my boots. It was going to be a long way down to tie them up, I thought, looking over the edge of the bed. But Sam was on his knees tying them before I'd even mustered the courage to attempt to lean down. I pulled my jacket on as he straightened, using the bedside table to drag himself to his feet. I grabbed his arm as he swayed.

"Let's get out of here." I said and he nodded wearily. We slung our bags over our shoulders and I kept a hand on his arm as we left the room.

"He's going to freak out, Bobby."

They thought they were being subtle; Sam probably even thought he'd whispered the words, but it wasn't like I was standing terribly far away. Leaning against the counter, I scribbled my name on the discharge paperwork and looked up. Sam and Bobby were hovering near the door; Bobby looking more patient and kind then I thought I'd ever seen him. And forget about me freaking out, Sam was vibrating with tension and seemed extremely likely to have a meltdown at any moment. I just felt numb.

Passing the paperwork back to the breathtakingly hot nurse, I gave her a half-strength grin, then joined Bobby and Sam at the door. I broke into their focused conversation with a jaunty, "We going somewhere today or what?"

Bobby's expression of patience seemed to have reached its expiration date and he glared at me. Sam just looked more distraught. I knew I should have been a little less flippant, but I wanted to be gone. I brushed past them and stepped outside. The fresh air was wonderful in comparison to the stale, sterile air of the hospital. Checking both directions, I headed straight toward the parking lot. There were footsteps behind me, but no conversation from the peanut gallery. Stalking through the parking lot, I wasn't quite sure which way I should be going. And then I saw her..

"Oh man." I whispered. Now I knew why Sam had been worried I was going to freak out. My baby was in pieces on the flatbed tow truck. The passenger side, the point of impact, was smashed of course and it physically hurt to see it. I blew out a long slow breath and tried to fight off the sudden urge to cry.

"Dean?"

Bobby's voice was soft and it made me want to punch something. I said, "Let's get out of here."

Bobby didn't say anything else, just sighed heavily and headed for the drivers side door of his tow truck. I ran a hand through my hair and stared at the remains of my Impala. She was in bad shape and I didn't know if there was anything I was going to be able to do for her. Broken shards of memories assaulted me. The demon after us. The demon possessing dad; trying to kill me. The trip to the hospital and then nothing except pain and darkness.

"Dean? Are you ok?" Sam's hesitant voice interrupted my memories.

"I'm fine." I nodded, not looking at him. Just walked after Bobby. "Let's go."

Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed. I know these are pretty short and pathetic. :)